Free at Last
by Arden Riddle
Summary: Ginny finds herself trapped in the past, in the same year with Tom Riddle. He takes a liking to her, and she decides to use this to her advantage but she doesn't know what dangers lie ahead.
1. Home to Hogwarts

_**Free at Last - Chapter 1**_

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**o – _Home to Hogwarts_ - o**

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"Got your trunk? Your owl? Everything?" 

Ginny nodded distractedly, looking around for Dean. Her mother hugged her, nevertheless.

"What's the point of bidding you farewell if you won't even look at me?" Mrs. Weasley said jokingly. Ginny smiled at her.

"'Bye, mum," she said. "I'll see you next year." She waved as her mother exited Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. She turned around and scanned the crowd again. No sign of him.

"Who're you looking for, Ginny?" said a familiar voice at her right shoulder. She knew who it was without looking.

"Hermione!" The two girls smiled at each other. Ginny threw her arms around Hermione's shoulders and quickly let go.

"My, you've grown, Ginny," Hermione said. Ginny had. She grew almost six inches since the previous year, and stood at the same height as Hermione. "And your hair – "

"Fred and George." Ginny had been distracted enough to try one of Fred and George's new treats, _Blond-blond Bonbons_, and her hair, consequently, was highlighted with random streaks of gold. She didn't like it a bit, but Fred and George told her they were almost sure it would wear off in a month or two. Everyone else, on the other hand, thought it looked stunning.

"How are they, anyway?" Hermione asked. Without waiting for a reply, she smiled and touched Ginny's hair. "It looks great, Gin," Hermione assured. "We'd better board the train. Ron'll meet us in the Prefects' compartment."

* * *

After dealing with her new Prefect duties, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron found Harry sitting in one of the corridors with Luna Lovegood and Seamus Finnegan. Ginny sat down on the train while Ron and Harry hugged Hermione. She caught phrases and words ("_My, Hermione, have you gotten shorter?_") but she really didn't pay any attention to them. Something else was on her mind. She had gotten a letter from Professor McGonagall right before she had to leave for school, telling her that she would be given a Time-Turner to go to all of her classes (she had signed up for everything, except for Arithmancy – she hated anything math-related). She would receive it before the Sorting. 

A voice suddenly snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Oy, Ginny!" Ginny looked up at the big green eyes staring down at her.

"Hello, Harry." Harry smiled.

"Your hair looks nice," he said quietly. Ginny grabbed her hat out of her bag and shoved it onto her head. Harry looked at Ron and shrugged.

Ginny leaned irritably on the glass of the window. The scenery was passing swiftly by. Ginny started to slowly drift off to the hum of the wheels on the tracks.

* * *

"Wake up, Ginny!" Ginny moaned as somebody shook her out of a pleasant dream. "We're here!" 

Ginny stood up and slipped her robes on over her uniform. She stepped off the train behind Hermione and got into a carriage alone. She was just about to dig into her handbag for her tie when somebody sat down next to her. She looked at him and went red.

"Malfoy, what are you doing here?"

She didn't even have to look at him to know he was smirking.

"Just wanted to see the look on your face," he said. Draco's eyes glittered for a moment. "Why aren't you sitting with your beloved _Potty_? Did he dump you?"

Ginny glared at Draco. She was not in the mood for a row.

"I haven't fancied Harry in any way for a year," she replied honestly. "I thought you might see why I wouldn't. He's best friends with my brother – therefore, he's just _strange_."

"Finally something we agree on," Draco muttered.

"I went out with Michael Corner for a long time last year," said Ginny. "Don't you remember?"

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "Who the bloody hell is that? I don't follow your love life, Miss Measly."

"Never mind," said Ginny. "This year, I may be going out with Dean."

"Thomas?" He turned the name over in his mind. "Black? The half-blood?"

"No, Dean's a Muggle-born."

Draco shook his head and smirked. "No he's not," he said. "My father knew his father." Ginny narrowed her eyes.

"His father was killed," said Ginny, curious. Draco nodded.

"I know," said Draco, somewhat mischievously. The carriage slowed to a stop.

"Wow…" said Ginny.

"What?" Draco demanded.

"Nothing," said Ginny. "Just… this has actually been a civil conversation."

Draco shrugged and stared pointedly at her. "But we're _not _friendly."

"True," said Ginny. "Like a moment ago, I just imagined seven ways to remove your head from your body."

Draco opened the door for Ginny, who climbed out quickly. Draco bowed his head when he stepped out of the carriage.

"I wish you the best of luck tomorrow, Weasley."

"For what?"

"Oh, you'll see," Draco said with a smile. "It'll be fun."

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A/N: Ok. Now it's time to **review**. See that little button right there. Yes right there. Click on it. I accept flames. Thank you. 


	2. A Gift

**_Free at Last - Chapter 2_**

A/N: Wasted a TON of time trying to figure out the bloody timeline for this fic. Many thanks to hp-lexicon. They have a full timeline of the HP world, if you're interested.

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**ooo _A Gift_ ooo**

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Ginny stood anxiously in Professor McGonagall's office. It was a large room where books lined the walls from top to bottom. Professor McGonagall sat in a dramatic, high-backed chair behind of a large ebony desk. Professor McGonagall smiled at Ginny, and her harsh brown eyes softened quite a bit behind her square-rimmed glasses. 

"You will need to take _good_ care of this, Miss Weasley," Professor McGonagall said as she handed a small parcel to Ginny.

"Don't worry Professor," said Ginny. She tore the brown paper off of the box, leaving a small blue velvet box in her hands. She lifted the lid and saw the tiny Time Turner inside. "It's beautiful." She lifted it out of the box and put the gold chain around her neck. The tiny charm rested on her heart, and the fine red sand inside of it settled to the bottom. Ginny touched it with the tip of her finger. It was warm.

"Be careful not to turn it over unless you need to," said Professor McGonagall, adjusting her spectacles. "It would be wise to take it off during classes. And remember – you mustn't tell any other about it… Off you go then."

Ginny smiled and turned away.

"By the way," Professor McGonagall added, "congratulations on the Prefect position." Ginny smiled and gave Professor McGonagall a short bow before rushing to the Great Hall.

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The Great Hall was decorated in its traditional manner. Hundreds of candles illuminated the room as they hovered above the four House Tables and the Staff table. They also produced quite a lot of heat, which was comfortable in the usually cold, drafty castle. Professor Dumbledore had already began the start-of-the-year speech. 

"…And last of all, Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that any Dungbombs set off in his office will result in a week of detention… _if_ the culprit is caught." Ginny saw that Dumbledore looked at Ron after he said this. "Bed time. Hurry, now. Lessons begin tomorrow morning."

He sat down, and all the students hustled out of the Great Hall, Hermione leading the first-year Gryffindors to the common room. Ginny walked quietly beside her. She was very tired, her eyelids purple with exhaustion. Although she had slept through most of the train ride, she was looking forward to her old four-poster bed. After Hermione announced the new password (_Docendo Discitur_), Ginny rushed up the stairs and into her beloved dormitory. She dropped noisily down onto her bed and fell asleep, fully clothed and without a second thought.

* * *

­"Urgh!" Ginny rolled over and covered her face with her hands. Some rays of sunlight had found their way around the blood-red curtains and into her eyes. Ginny sat up, perturbed. She was lying on the floor where her bed should be. But it wasn't anywhere to be seen. There were beds to the left and right of her. _Must have rolled off, _she thought. 

"Why won't you two ever close the curtains!" she yelled at her roommates, two of which were still sound asleep in their beds. One of them stirred.

"Go back to sleep, Minerva," she said. Ginny stood up.

"Minerva?" she muttered to herself, opening her wardrobe, only to find that she was fully dressed. Ginny ran her fingers through her bright red hair, and combed it into a ponytail with her fingers.

"What time is it, Diana?" No answer. Ginny approached Diana's bed. "DIANA!" The drowsy girl sat up and scratched her blond head.

"Who are you?" she said, not managing to stifle a huge yawn. "And who's Diana?" The blond girl didn't look familiar at all to Ginny. The blond girl's eyes widened. "Oh no, are we late again?"

Ginny stared at her open mouthed. The blond girl before her was wearing curlers in her white-blond hair and a light pink floral nightgown. Her eyes were big and baby blue, her skin almost as white as Draco Malfoy's.

"You must excuse us," said the girl, pulling the curlers hurriedly out of her hair. "We're always late." Ginny tried to speak, but found that she couldn't. "By the way, I'm Leora Malfoy. What's your name."

"Ginny," she replied. _Malfoy?_ Ginny thought. "Are you by any chance related to a Draco?" Leora looked at her with a baffled expression.

"What an odd name," she said. "A boy, is it?"

Ginny nodded. "Epitome of evil."

"Well, I've never heard of him."

This confused Ginny quite a bit. Draco, aside from being the most hated boy in school, was very popular through Quidditch and his position as a Prefect.

"Minerva!" she yelled. "We're late!" Ginny's jaw dropped when she saw a 17-year-old Professor McGonagall sit up in bed, her wavy black hair falling in long waves over her shoulders. Ginny was horrified, but was careful not to show it in her face.

"Minerva… McGonagall?"

"Hmm?" said the girl.

"Impossible! It's 1996!" Ginny exclaimed. McGonagall shot her a very Hermione-like look as she brushed her hair into a tight bun.

"Perhaps you had better go to the infirmary, Ginny," Leora said, smiling, straightening her red and gold tie. "You're off by about fifty years."

"So it's… 1946?"

"1943."

"You're right," Ginny laughed, thinking she had embarrassed herself enough. "I'd better go to the Hospital Wing or something... 'Bye" Ginny turned her back on the utterly worried girl and entered the Gryffindor common room. It was different. Very different. There were many people bustling about, none of whom she recognized. She walked quickly toward the portrait hole.

"Oh no," Ginny muttered to herself after she had climbed out. "My Time Turner!" She pulled the small charm out of her blouse. _I forgot to take it off! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid_!! thought Ginny.

Walking down the seventh floor corridor, she decided to head toward the Grand Staircase. The door to the North Wing opened, bumping Ginny's arm.

"Oh, sorry," muttered the boy, who hurried away without looking back. Ginny stared off after him.

_I'm not crazy!_ she thought. Finally, someone who could prove that she wasn't insane! This really was 1996!

"HARRY!" Ginny yelled, jogging to catch up to him.

He spun around.

It wasn't Harry at all. This boy's eyes were blue – colder than two shards of ice. One of his dark brows was raised in a semi-flustered expression. The corner of his mouth was touched with a smile – a more severe replica of Draco Malfoy's smirk.

Ginny stopped quickly, and she felt her pulse hasten. Those eyes – they had pierced her soul before. There was no doubting who it was.

"_Tom_," said Ginny, in a very small voice. The boy before her nodded.

"Yes?"

"Oh," Ginny said, noticing her hand was shaking. She hid it behind her. "I thought you were somebody else." Tom approached her and smiled his sly, evil smile, his sapphire eyes looking her up and down.

"You're a pretty thing," he said. Ginny felt herself go white. Tom stepped so that he was only inches away from her, and touched her hair with the tip of his finger. He towered over her and she made sure not to cower under his icy gaze. "I haven't seen you around before. What House are you in?"

"Slytherin," she lied, looking down at the floor. She knew how he felt about Gryffindors,. "I'm in my fifth year." Tom nodded, quickly glancing around the hallway.

"Same for me," said Tom. "I'm Tom Riddle, by the way.... But you seem to already know that. How is it I don't know you?"

Ginny became whiter.

A_ct natural, Ginny_, she thought. _He doesn't know who you are yet_.

"And you haven't told me your name," he said. _Damn_, thought Ginny.

"Lavender Brown," she lied smoothly. Tom's eyebrow rose higher.

"You lie."

_How? _she began to ponder.

But then she remembered. Tom had a gift. He had told her in the diary. He had some kind of lie detector in his head, which made it easy to tell if anyone was lying or not. Eye contact is key, she remembered.

_Thank Merlin he didn't catch me with my Slytherin lie_, she thought. _I guess I'd better tell the truth_.

"Ginerva Weasley," she sighed. "But my friends call me Ginny."

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A/N: That's really Ginny's name – go to JK Rowling's official site if u want proof. **Review or I'll make you hang out with Gilderoy Lockheart.** Ooh. I shudder at the thought. 


	3. Under the Weeping Willow

_Free at Last - Chapter 3_

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How she ended up walking across the castle grounds on the arm of the future enemy of the world, Ginny didn't know. But she _did_ know that Tom Riddle loved to talk about schoolwork, Wizard Chess, and Quidditch. Being the best of the group in her opinion, Ginny chose to discuss Quidditch.

"So are you on the Slytherin team?"

"Afraid not," said Tom. Ginny was still pondering the sprinting away option. But Tom Riddle had his arm hooked firmly around hers, and she was trapped until the conversation was finished. "Too busy."

"With what?" Ginny asked as Tom began to lead her down the grounds and toward the Greenhouses.

"Oh, you know," he said. "Prefect work, schoolwork. Meetings. Clubs. I organize a lot of meetings. But I like to play Quidditch in my off time. I like to play Chaser or Keeper."

"Me too," said Ginny. "Chaser and Seeker, though. I'm not too fond of playing Keeper." Tom looked at her, surprised.

"But you're a girl."

"So?" Ginny asked. Her brow furrowed, and her eyes narrowed defensively.

"Girls don't play Quidditch," said Tom, in the same tone one would use if they were speaking to a toddler. "They sew… and garden… and they keep house."

"Of course they do play Quidditch," said Ginny. "And I'm a damn good Seeker. But I prefer Chaser. More action."

"Really, now?" Tom said, and Ginny knew he wasn't listening. This wasn't the time or the place to discuss her feminist beliefs, anyhow. Tom began to lead her down a path to the left of the one to the Greenhouses. She had never seen it before. Perhaps it wasn't there in the future. Well, it didn't lead into the forest – that was good.

"Where are we going?" asked Ginny. The corner of Tom's lip curled up again. He looked at her.

"You must be joking," he said. Ginny stayed silent. The narrow path was shaded by trees and bushes. They turned a corner, and the path opened up into a small clearing with a weeping willow tree in the middle, making a curtain of silvery-green vines around a bench that sat near its trunk. Tom let go of Ginny's arm.

"I come here when I need privacy," said Tom, holding the curtain of vines open for Ginny to proceed through. She hesitated – this was her only chance to run away. But he was close enough to pull her back anyway. She ducked through the vines and sat down on the bench. Tom sat beside her, putting his arm around her shoulders. Ginny shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She already had a boyfriend. Well, kind of. She and Dean were always flirting tremendously, but they hadn't had the chance to go on an actual date yet. Today was supposed to be the first day back, after all.

Before she could react, Tom leaned over and pressed his lips against hers. Ginny blanched, and, appalled, she pushed him away.

"Excuse me," she said, the pitch of her voice high. "You met me how long ago – maybe a half an hour? And now you're trying to make out with me?" She frowned.

"Make out?" Tom echoed. He cocked an eyebrow. "If that means shag, then I suppose so." Ginny's cheeks went as red as her hair.

"Get away from me!" Ginny said, jumping to her feet. "I'm not that type of girl!" She mimicked one of Hermione's famous snotty 'looks'. "Now if you don't mind, I'll be going now." With one final glare, she started to walk quickly away. She made it halfway up the path when she heard a voice far behind her.

"Accio!"

It was a strange feeling. Ginny felt herself rushing backwards, and no matter how she tried her shoes wouldn't quite touch the ground. She let out a shriek of shock and rage and seconds later ended up right next to a very amused-looking Tom.

"I apologize, Ginerva," he said coolly. He paused for a moment. "I mean Ginny."

Ginny glared at him. "I said my _friends _call me Ginny," she hissed. Her voice was as cold as she could make it sound. If he could look into her soul, he would find that she was truly terrified. "And when did we become friends? We're not on first name terms."

"You're right," said Tom. "But I would _like _to be your friend­­ –" he paused "– Miss Weasley. Please give me another chance. I won't try anything. I promise."

"Why should I?" said Ginny, her ears growing redder by the second.

Tom grinned. "Because I'll just keep summoning you back."

Infuriated, Ginny sat down on the bench again. She folded her arms and crossed her legs.

"I assume you are from a pure-blood family," said Tom. Ginny gave a short nod.

It shocked her how his mannerisms so resembled Draco Malfoy's. The way he smirked – the way his cold blue eyes glittered when he had a clever thought – they could have been brothers despite the obvious differences in appearance.

It was only Tom Riddle's voice that truly set him apart. Ginny remembered it so well from when he would pull her into his memories. It was nothing like Draco Malfoy's monotonous drawl. Tom's voice was clear and unquestionable – he knew all the right things to say at all times. It was the voice of an honest man. Like Harry's.

"You're half Muggle, aren't you?" asked Ginny. She said this purely to annoy him, so that he wouldn't try to keep her there with him.

"Unfortunately, yes," he said. He didn't seem as annoyed as she'd presumed he would be. Instead, he seemed surprised. He did not, of course, seem to keen on the subject, and changed it quickly. "Where are you from?"

"England."

Tom laughed. "I assumed that," he said. "Your accent. But what city?"

"Not in a city," she said curtly. "Outside of one."

He seemed to give up on that subject. "Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked.

Ginny was about to give the automatic response of '_no'_, but realized that she did, in fact, have some sort of boyfriend. And this would work to her advantage. "Yes," she replied, trying not to smile.

Tom did not seem the least bit discouraged. "Who?" he asked, casually flashing a charming smile.

"Dean," she said. Afraid he might ask what House Dean was in, she added, "He's not at this school with us." It was the truth – he was at _future_ Hogwarts, not this one. Tom seemed to accept this.

Tom smiled. "Then he really wouldn't mind so much, would he?"

Before Ginny could register what he said, his hand crept to her waist and he pressed his lips to hers. He did it so smoothly that she didn't even realize what was going on. She froze for a few seconds, enough time for him to push her back and pin her to the bench. She was even more startled when he kissed her neck and she felt something like a butterfly in her stomach.

"Geroff!" she grunted, shoving him away. He fell off the bench as she struggled out from under him. She suddenly felt sick – Lord Voldemort's tongue had been in her mouth. She wiped the saliva from her neck and lips, and she spat on the ground near the bench. Tom got to his feet, and Ginny took this opportunity to smack him hard across the cheek.

Flabbergasted, Tom put his hand to the spot on his cheek that was quickly turning red. The rest of his face turned slightly gray. "Filthy whore!" he spat. Ginny's eyes narrowed. She wanted so badly to kick him.

"Filthy half-breed!" Ginny's voice was shrill, and it seemed to echo in both of their minds for a few seconds. Tom's nostrils flared and Ginny cowered for a moment under his glare and took a step back. He grabbed her arm and wrenched it, throwing her onto the grass. Within seconds she got to her feet, enraged.

Tom stepped forward. "How dare –"

"How dare I?" Ginny laughed wryly, taking a step forward also. "How dare I what? Tell the truth?" She felt a wave of adrenaline rush into her. Normally she would have felt bad for saying something so low, and indeed the hurt and outrage that glittered in his eyes sparked some guilt inside of her.

But she was not about to apologize to Lord Voldemort. No freaking way.

Ginny was surprised at her own willpower. She held her ground while the most powerful evil wizard in the world was trying to stare her down. Or maybe she was too frightened to move. Either way, it was working.

Tom's gaze was cool. "I may not have the blue blood that you do, Miss Weasley," he whispered, his face inches from hers, "but the blood that runs through my veins is worth more than all the other magic blood in the world."

Ginny withheld her frown. All the sympathy drained out of her. _Well, someone's a Narcissist, _she thought.

"Blood means nothing if there's no heart to pump it," she hissed. She turned on her heel, careful to whip him in the face with her hair, and sprinted away as fast as her legs would allow her.

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A/N: Review!!! Feel free to flame, if you wish. If you don't say something I'll have to sic Dudley on you. He'll sit on you until you review, and we don't want to have to resort to that, do we? Yeah. Thought you'd agree. Now REVIEW ALREADY.


	4. Meant To Be

_**Free at Last - Chapter 4**_

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_Now what?_ Ginny wondered. She had no uniform, no room, no friends, no teachers to recognize her. AHA! Dumbledore. Fifty years ago, Dumbledore was a Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts, if Ginny's memory served her correctly. Now all she had to do was find him... 

Ginny made her way up the Grand Staircase to the First Floor Corridor. It wasn't exactly the place she remembered – the domain of Professor McGonagall, always neat, quiet, and empty. In this place, the corridor was also lined with bookshelves, each crammed with books and curious artifacts. Even the portraits on these walls looked happier than they would in the future. Ginny raised her hand to knock on the Transfiguration classroom door, when she heard a voice from inside.

"Headmaster, I do warn you. He is much more powerful than he lets us know." It was unmistakably Dumbledore's voice, stronger and clearer in his youth.

"And we are honored to house such a brilliant student here at Hogwarts," said the Headmaster. _Dippet_, Ginny remembered. "He will be Head Boy for sure."

"Headmaster, if I could just –"

Dippet didn't seem to hear him. "And I'm sure he will be a man of great importance one day." Dumbledore sighed.

Ginny heard footsteps toward the door. "We shall talk later, Albus. Must be off." Ginny moved aside as Headmaster Dippet opened the door and walked away.

Dumbledore spotted her. "Did you need something, Miss?"

"Yes, actually," said Ginny. She closed the Transfiguration classroom door behind her as she walked inside.

Professor Dumbledore had been a handsome man, Ginny noticed. His hair was the same rust color as Lupin's, flecked with gray. His beard and hair were shorter. His crystalline eyes twinkled with a youthful brightness behind half-moon spectacles and were absent of the weariness that Ginny usually saw in them.

He beckoned for her to sit down at one of the desks.

"How may I help you Miss…"

"Ginny Weasley."

"Miss Weasley – are you…" He frowned suddenly. "Just a moment." He rummaged through some papers on his desk and pulled one out. "Ginerva Weasley? Gryffindor? Hogwarts graduating class of 1999?"

"Yes," Ginny said, raising an eyebrow. "How did you…?"

"A letter from the Ministry of Magic of the future," he said, holding it out to her. "I thought it was a joke. It says you were transported here from the future. Is this true?"

Ginny sighed. "Unless this is one giant prank on me, then yes."

"It also says that you have a purpose here, and to stay until it is accomplished. What do you make of that?"

Ginny shook her head. "No idea… Unless I'm supposed to prevent You-Know-Who from –"

"You-Know-Who?"

Ginny laughed. "I suppose you don't know who, do you? In the future, there's a wizard who –"

"No! Don't speak," said Professor Dumbledore, holding up a hand to silence her. "You cannot speak of the future."

Ginny frowned. "So I'm supposed to _stay_?"

Dumbledore waved the letter at her. "Take the letter. See what you make of it. If you need help with anything, just come to me again, Miss Weasley."

A few lines of the letter echoed in Ginny's mind.

…_Ginerva Weasley was transported back in time by advanced Restricted Magic. A Time Transport Spell was produced by an unregistered wand at 11:07 PM… Do not allow Ginerva to leave until her purpose has been fulfilled. She will know…_

Know? KNOW WHAT?

Time Transport Spell… that meant it hadn't been her Time Turner that transported her. _That makes sense,_ she thought. _I would have to turn it about four hundred and forty thousand times to go back this far. _Then what would have done it?

_Think, Ginny think,_ she thought. And it hit her.

Draco.

It was _him_ who did this.

_ (Flashback) _

_"I wish you the best of luck tomorrow, Weasley," said Draco._

_"For what?"_

_"Oh, you'll see. It'll be fun."_

_(End Flashback) _

Was it for the Death Eaters, or for his own personal amusement? It sent chills down her spine to think Draco – or any other source of pure evil – had crept into her room while she was asleep… Ugh.

Who would have known Draco to know such advanced magic? Draco wasn't a bad student, she knew. He was often the source of many of Slytherin's house points. And now he was a prefect – Dumbledore had (for some reason) forgiven him for allying with Professor Umbridge the previous year.

_Maybe I should get information on Voldemort for the Order, _Ginny thought. _Then I can go back to Hogwarts and give them anything I found. But what would he plan fifty years in advance? Maybe there's some background – some weakness – that I can find. Hell, I don't know what I'm doing…_

She knew one thing, though: the first step was to befriend Lord Voldemort.

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After sneaking into the laundry and stealing some spare, clean Slytherin robes, Ginny walked up and down the Grand Staircase, looking around for any sign of Tom Riddle. She, at last, walked into the Entrance Hall and saw him walking into the Dungeon area. 

_There he is. Just go up to him._

Ginny walked across the Entrance Hall, toward the Dungeons. She went down the stairs. The air grew chill around her as she walked into the dark corridor. _No wonder the Slytherins are so grumpy, _she thought. _It's bloody freezing down here._

She caught up to him while he was standing in front of a dungeon wall. "Modus mundi," Tom muttered, and the wall slid aside to reveal the Slytherin Common Room. Ginny tucked these words into her memory and tried to suppress her awe as she followed Tom into the room. She immediately noticed the low stone ceiling and the dank, cave-like feel of the chamber. The only things to marvel at were the intricate tapestries that hung on the windowless walls.

Without turning, Tom stopped. Ginny heard him exhale sharply. "Come to torment me, have you?"

Ginny drew a deep breath and took the plunge.

"To apologize," she said. Tom set his book bag on the floor and sat in one of the high-backed leather chairs, facing Ginny. She lowered her eyes. "What I said was low, and I'm sorry… I just – you caught me off-guard."

Ginny could feel Tom's scrutinizing glare and decided not to meet it. "Sit," he said, more of a command than a request. Like a dog, she obeyed; she sat in a chair facing him. There was a small ebony table between them, on which sat a chessboard.

"You like wizard chess?" he asked. She took this as an 'apology accepted'… maybe. Ginny shrugged and loosened her tie.

"Sometimes," she said. _Not against Ron,_ she added in her mind. "Do you?"

"Of course I do," said Tom. "It's the game of kings and geniuses."

Ginny smirked. "Fancy yourself a genius, Mr. Riddle?"

"A king," he replied, his eyes glittering. He waved his hand and the chess pieces moved into position. "And you may call me Tom."

With an internal sigh, Ginny forced a smile. "You may call me Ginny."

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A/N: **Review** or I'll lock you in a room with Umbridge and a blast-ended skrewt.


	5. Something Unexpected

_**Free at Last - Chapter 5**_

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**ooo – _Something Unexpected _- ooo**

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He was so much like Draco, but with a _bigger_ ego – if that was possible.

Two weeks had gone by. Ginny met with Professor Dumbledore again, who helped discreetly arrange a schedule and a dormitory for her. There was, however, no room in the House dorms, so Dumbledore offered her a room adjoined to the Slytherin common room.

The room was halfway down the stairs that led to the girls' dormitory, behind a picture on the wall. Ginny vaguely wondered who would think of building a secret room there. Then, of course, she remembered that this dorm was build by Slytherin the Utterly Paranoid.

Ginny sat on her new bed. Her fingers were stiff from the overwhelming cold, and she tucked them in the fold of her knees for warmth.

For some reason, she realized, Dumbledore hadn't bothered questioning Ginny's preference of the Slytherin dorm over Gryffindor. _Probably doesn't want to interfere with the future_, thought Ginny.

Ginny hadn't yet figured out what those plans were. Tom had certainly taken a liking to her. If he wasn't going to be such a malicious git in the future, Ginny might have considered him a new friend.

He certainly was clever, she knew. Amusing. Charming. Egotistical. Arrogant. A strange blend between Gilderoy Lockhart and Draco Malfoy… but somehow, it worked for Tom. He had a strange charm about him, and a blunt evasiveness that was refreshing and annoying at the same time.

_Shut UP!_ she said, slapping herself mentally. _He manipulates people. It's what he does best._

She flopped back on her bed.

_But not me, _she thought. _I won't let him._

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"Hello, Miss Weasley."

Ginny jumped as two arms slithered around her waist and embraced her from behind.

"Tom," she said, in way of greeting. He let go and offered her an arm. She smiled politely and took it. They were headed toward their first class of the day: Transfiguration with the Gryffindors.

Ginny felt strange as she entered the classroom. She'd never had Dumbledore as a professor before, and she was looking forward to it.

"Gryffindickheads," Tom muttered as they took their seats in the second row. Ginny smirked. It was an uncharacteristically childish thing to hear from the future Dark Lord of all wizardkind.

"Today, class," said Professor Dumbledore, "we shall continue our previous lesson. Turning something very small into something very large." He produced a small satchel of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans from his robe pocket. He handed it to a Gryffindor in the front row. "Each of you please take a bean... and try to refrain from eating it." As soon as everyone had a bean, Dumbledore took out his wand. "Now, everyone will turn their bean into a vase. The incantation is Habeas Vasum. Repeat it for me." The class echoed him half-heartedly.

"You must say the words clearly," he said, "or you may end up with a lemon-flavored vase…" He smiled. "…which wouldn't be so bad, come to think of it."

It was this moment that Ginny realized that she was in a second semester, fifth year Transfiguration class. In the future, she was just _starting _her fifth year. She prayed that she wouldn't humiliate herself.

She carefully aimed her wand at her bright blue bean. "Habeas Vasum!" she uttered. She winced, hoping with every fiber of her body that it would work.

And it did.

"Impressive, Miss Weasley," said Professor Dumbledore as he walked by. She felt herself glow with pride. Tom, of course, had no problem with the spell. He started to show off by turning his vase into objects of different sizes – his vase to a mouse, his mouse to a ring, the ring to a lantern. When Ginny couldn't stand by and watch him show off any longer, she smirked at him and raised her wand. She turned his lantern into a bubble and then popped it with the tip of her wand. He smirked and nodded in approval.

The rest of the class, however, used up the rest of the period trying. Ginny and Tom were excused from class seventeen minutes early for their 'outstanding performance'.

"Want to stop by the common room before Care of Magical Creatures?" said Ginny. "We have about half an hour."

Tom smirked. "I'll show you somewhere."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "As long as this place doesn't involve a weeping willow, Mr. Riddle, then… sure."

With another half-smile, he seized her hand and led her quickly down the corridor. She jogged behind him down the Grand Staircase, through the Entrance Hall, and down the Dungeon Corridor. They halted in front of a gated area she had never really noticed before.

"Nasus elephanti," he said, and the gate squeaked open. As soon as they were through, it clanged shut behind them. He led her down a narrow hallway that opened up into a large room. They stopped in front of a tapestry at the far right corner of the chamber.

He turned to her. As he held her gaze, and his eyes turned stony. He squeezed her hand as he spoke.

"You tell _nobody _about this," he said. Before Ginny could even nod, he looked away and traced a large 'S' on the tapestry with his wand tip. It became translucent, and Tom simply stepped through it, still clutching Ginny's hand. She followed him.

Behind the tapestry, there were stairs, leading down to a small common room. There were four sofas that all surrounded a fire pit in the middle. There was a medium-sized cauldron sitting over the fire. The cauldron was empty, but the fire was lit.

"Lux," said Tom, and flames shot up from all the torches on the wall at once. Ginny sat down beside him on one of the sofas.

"This is where my friends and I meet sometimes," he said, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Good friends. Useful friends." He looked her straight in the eye. "I am not going to lie to you, Gin," he said. "Sometimes what we do here isn't considered… _good_ by most of the wizarding world. We are students who wish to further their education." Ginny looked past him, taking in his words. He paused. "You're a powerful witch, Ginny. I was wondering if you'd like to join us. We rarely have girls around."

Ginny bit the inside of her cheek. She watched the shadows dance on his face in the torchlight. "You practice the Dark Arts here, don't you?" asked Ginny. She, of course, wasn't the least bit surprised. But the look on her face was troubled, she knew.

"Dark Arts," Tom sighed. "Magic is magic, isn't it? … And we've achieved so much already… We've even unlocked some of the secrets of the greatest Hogwarts founder."

Ginny blanched. "You don't mean – The Chamber…"

"You've heard the myth, then?" said Tom, grinning. "How it will cleanse the school of all it's Mudblood filth, just like Salazar Slytherin meant –"

"I don't _understand _you," said Ginny, frowning and pulling away from him. "_You're_ part Muggle, you know."

Tom's eyes flashed.

"My father deserves to die, if he hasn't already," he hissed. "Along with his whole bloody race."

Ginny swallowed her words. She wouldn't fight with him – she'd already gotten this far. "What if we get caught?" she asked. She knew he wouldn't be caught, but the last thing she wanted to be involved in was the murder of any Muggleborn.

"We won't be," he said.

Ginny forced a smile. "Alright, then."

Tom nodded. "Good," he uttered. "And don't tell a single soul, or I will…" He stopped and laughed. "Who am I to threaten a lady?" He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're smart. Trustworthy."

Ginny bit her lip. He was getting awfully close again. He gave her a look. _No!_ thought Ginny. _What does he think he's doing?_

A voice in the back of her mind chuckled. _I can use this, though, can't I?_

He was leaning in to kiss her. It was now or never.

_I'm doing it._

She closed her eyes and met his lips. It felt so awkward. She chuckled to herself, and he gave her a puzzled look. She bit her lower lip coyly, raising her hand to his shoulder. She drew him in again.

It was different this time. Ginny's arms slipped around Tom's neck as his hands slid up her back. She brushed his bottom lip with her tongue, and his lips parted. Ginny felt a strange feeling stir inside of her. She leaned into it. His mouth tasted like Sugar Quills.

_It's _hima voice screamed in her head. _Not Dean! Not some nice boy from the D.A.! It's VOLDEMORT! _But she didn't want to think about that. She refused to open her eyes.

Tom pushed her back onto the couch, combing his fingers through her hair. She opened her eyes for a split second, just to glimpse his face. _Don't think about it_, she thought vaguely. He grazed her cheek with his fingertips. She gripped the pleat of her skirt as his lips caressed her neck. She arched her back, barring her neck for him. Heat churned in her belly. She stopped thinking. Suddenly, one of his hands undid the top button of her shirt, and then the second. His hand moved the loosened fabric, exposing her bare shoulder. His fingertips moved her bra strap off her shoulder.

A red flag went up in Ginny's head.

Ginny stroked his hair when he kissed her neck, glancing at her watch as she did.

"We have seven minutes before class," she whispered. "We should stop." He glanced up at her and groaned in disappointment. She had an idea. She smirked. "For now," she added.

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"No matter. How much do you need?"

"Just enough for a diary and some spare parchment." She clasped her hands behind her back. "I'm sorry, Professor… I didn't know where else to turn. I'll find a way to pay you back – I promise – "

Dumbledore beckoned Ginny to his desk. He turned toward his cupboard and opened it. When he turned toward her, he held out an empty bowl. "This may do the deed of the diary, Miss Weasley." Ginny looked at it. It was made of wood, and runes were carved along the rim. It was a Pensieve. Dumbledore smiled. "It's yours."

"Sir, I couldn't," said Ginny, pushing the Pensieve back toward him. He ignored her and put it into her hands again.

"And as for parchment, I have plenty. Take as much as you need. I can get more from the staff room anyway."

"But Professor, Pensieves are more expensive than what I was going to get in Hogesm –"

"It is no problem, Miss Weasley. I already have one of my own." He gestured toward a much larger basin in his open cupboard. "I received this one as a birthday present a while back. I am glad it can be of use."

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A/N: **Review** or I'll force-feed you live flobberworms. With sugar on top.


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